Amare & Dolor
by FuneralForAFriend
Summary: Some say love is better than pain, but to others, you cannot love without pain. To some, that is the only way they know how to show love- through pain.
1. Chapter 1

**So we meet again... I have decided to start another story, due to my starving ambitions and obsessions with several things at once. Anyways, this is the story of Briar Harvard and Alec. Enjoy...**

* * *

"God, watch out, Giraffe!" a group of Jocks rushed past me, banging the steel lockers and hooping and hollering. I turn bright red from my "nickname". I shrug my shoulders to my ears in a shy manner and stooped my tall, gangly frame down to pick up the textbooks they had knocked out of my hands. I stood up as the bell rang. Great. Now I was going to be apprehended by the teachers. I hated getting in trouble, because when you got in trouble at this school, _everyone _knew about it, which meant negative attention. And with me, I hated attention in general, whether it be positive or negative.

I rushed to my next class- biology. It was one of my least favorite classes, to be honest. It wasn't like I was scared of organs or blood or anything. Quite contrary, actually. I was obsessed with nosebleeds and hemophilia, but anyways, I hated seeing dead things. It made me depressingly sad, which may lead you to ask why I take biology? Well, it was either this or Gym, and me doing Gym was like watching a giraffe walk on its hind legs, which was actually why those guys called me that earlier.

You see, I'm abnormally tall for my age, standing at six foot on the dot. I was one of the tallest girls out of the sophomores, at my school. Heck, maybe even the seniors and juniors, too. I also had a bit of a problem with scaring people away, but not because I was atrociously ugly or mean or anything, I was just _different_, I guess. I wore a flower headband every day to school, and my baby blue eyes took up most of the space on my small, narrow face. My lips almost always seemed to be pinched in an 'o' shape, like those models that put lipstick only on the small portion of their lips, to look as such. I wore clothes that a porcelain doll would wear, and my platinum blonde hair brushed just above the small of my back.

Now, I know you're thinking that that isn't that weird, right? Well, you're terribly wrong, then. At this school, all of the girls wore loose sweatshirts and sweat pants and donned their underwhelming hair in unimpressive messy buns. The guys wore their letterman jackets and their expensive basketball shoes every day, but all the rest of their clothes were sloppy and very unstylish. All of them made fun of me, and only one person had even bothered to be befriend me, but I'll tell you about her later.

Anyways, I was talking to you about how I scared them away, right? Well, besides my appearances, I hummed to myself a lot, out of a nervous habit I had developed while holding residence at this school, and again that I was obsessed with blood. I also listened to strange music unfamiliar to them, like Folk Opera and classical music. I was also different because of my aspirations. I wanted to be a figure in the fashion world, whether it be a designer, a photographer, or a model. They always discouraged me though, telling me that nobody would buy my clothes or appreciate my pictures, or that I was too ugly to be a model.

I also had a weird "quirk", besides my other nervous ones, I never got hurt. Physically, anyways. I could remember when I had been forced to do Gym in sixth grade. We were outside, doing some sort of watered down parkour tricks when I fell. Not just fell down or anything, but I fell down from the top of this wall we were supposed to be climbing. Well, my long legs weren't cooperating too well, and I fell off the 10 foot wall. I heard screams and a gasp from the gym teacher. Apparently, I had landed directly on my neck, and I was dead for like a couple minutes or something, I can't quite remember. But I do remember being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, even though I kept telling them I was perfectly fine. The Gym teacher was fired, though, since he was putting children's lives at risks.

There was another time, in eighth grade, as well, when I was at home one day. I had been walking around in my mom's heels, trying to get used to walking in them, when I fell and twisted my ankle in such a grizzly way that the bone emerged from my skin. I screamed, obviously, but I only screamed for about 30 seconds, because the pain had ceased. I watched in strange amusement as the bone just sucked back in, my skin stitching itself back up as soon as the bone was safely inside. Weird, right?

Well, anyways, back to the present. I had just arrived to biology, and the teacher, Mr. Dunwall, was writing something on the board. He stopped and dropped the piece of chalk he was writing with and briskly walked over to me. He scolded me and gave me a slip for detention for tomorrow morning. I feverishly nodded my head and ducked to the back of the room where my lab partner was. She was the friend I had mentioned earlier, if you recall.

Her name was Brittney, and she was almost as much of an outcast as me, but it was more because she had already had two kids, and she was 16, like me. We weren't really friends as one would imagine, but we more or less had a sort of peace treaty between us. We were the only ones that sat at our lunch table, and we were always partners, but other than that, we really didn't have much to do with each other, but she did at least try to be my friend. That didn't really work out, as we didn't have anything in common. She thought I was weird, I thought she was dull and unimpressive. We disclosed that and that's where we are today.

She pushed the tray over to me, as she never did work. She sat there and texted one of her three boyfriends. I watched with morbid curiosity as she sent him very vulgar text messages, to say the least. I wasn't allowed to have a phone. I'd probably scare too many people if I did, and my parents thought that technology was the root of all evil. It was okay, though. It's not like I had anyone to socialize with, anyways. However, they did allow me a laptop and other things for me to unleash my creativity.

I turned my attention away from Brittney and started to get to work on the specimen, which was a dead pigeon. I felt a pang of guilt snag my heart. I pulled my gloves and moved the bird slightly to the left of the tray when it blinked at me. I thought that I was just seeing things, but then it blinked again. And again. Then it started to breathe, its chest heaving up and down. I widened my already huge eyes and watched as the bird slowly started to show signs of life. It snapped its beak open and closed several times, and its breathing became more labored.

Suddenly, it got to its feet and started to make terrible sounds, like it was getting stabbed repeatedly. Then, it fluttered its wings and took flight. By this time, everyone was staring at me. Even Brittney had set her phone down. Mr. Dunwall was frantically trying to catch the bird, and when he finally did, he slammed his text book over it, blood squirting out from underneath the book's spine. I winced and my breath hitched in my throat. I hated seeing things die, especially animals, but that wasn't really the most of my concern. I looked down at my gloved hands, wondering what had just happened. It almost seemed as if… No, that was impossible… Maybe I had been able to be almost invincible to hurting myself, but other things… Especially dead things…

Mr. Dunwall spoke up from the front of the classroom. "It's okay, class. This guy must not have been dead yet, huh, Briar?"

He was talking to me. It took me a while to register that he was saying my name. Not a lot of people know my name. Not even most teachers. They usually just say, "Hey, you in the back!" But, obviously, Mr. Dunwall knew my name. Every pair of eyes turned back to look at me. I just looked forward at Mr. Dunwall. He wasn't expecting an answer, so I just gave him my silence.

The classroom remained awkwardly quiet until the bell rang. Everyone sluggishly finished their assignments, but I rushed out of the door. I was so thankful that it was the end of the day. I wanted to go home and work on some of my art assignments. We hadn't had art in a couple of weeks, since our art teacher was on maternity leave, so I had been making watercolor paintings by myself. That is, when I wasn't working on designing my fashion line. I knew that it was wishing for something nearly impossible to achieve, but I also thought it healthy to have goals for yourself.

I grabbed my messenger bag and coat from my locker, wanting to avoid the crowd of people that rushed around after school. I hated being caught in that crowd. I zoomed out the front door and speed-walked to my car. My feet crunched in the Alaskan snow, and the sun was already beginning to set. It was the second week of December, and we were going on our Christmas break. I couldn't wait. Christmas break meant working on all of my artistic projects and reading books, being cozy up in my room and looking out the window at the falling snow, a mug of hot chocolate in my hands.

I got in my car and pulled out of the parking lot, which would soon be full of the four different grades of students at the high school, all overly-eager to get home and say goodbye to this school until the second week of January. A whole month off of school this year. Our school system had definitely been generous, a good thing for us students.

As I was backing out, a car next to me honked its horn and I nearly jumped out of my own skin. It was Mr. Dunwall. He had his window rolled down and he was signaling for me to do the same, so I did and I watched him intently. He had pieces of paper in his hands. "Hey, Briar, could I talk to you for a moment, dear?"

I thought it strange that he called me "dear", but I nodded all the same. He continued, "Listen, I have these tickets to Italy, and my wife has fallen ill, and I'm afraid I can't use them anymore. Would you mind taking them?"

I furrowed my brows. Was he really offering me his tickets? He saw my disbelief. He sighed exasperatedly. He was being honked at by several high school students behind him, whom wanted to get home and he was in their way, causing a major traffic jam. "Would you just take the tickets?" he nearly shouted at me. Without waiting for my answer, he threw the tickets at me, but as he did so, his contact lens popped out, and I looked up at him, seeing that one of his eyes was bright red. I gasped and leaned back in my seat as I heard Mr. Dunwall's tires burn rubber down the street as he drove away.

Looking down at the tickets, I saw that they were round-trip from Anchorage, Alaska to Volterra, Italy, back to Anchorage. I furrowed my brows. I guess I understood why he wanted to get rid of the tickets, but why give them to _me_? I decided not to think about it until I got home, where I could discuss it with my mother.

* * *

Linus Dunwall made his way home in a frenzy, his eyes burning from the contact lenses. He opened the door and rushed inside, going straight to the phone. First, he called that Briar girl's mother. He explained to her all about the tickets to Italy. It only took five minutes to convince her to go. Linus smirked and hung up the phone. Then, he dialed a number he had become too used to.

He waited for the receiver to answer. As usual, the receiver picked up within the first couple rings. "Yes, hello, it's Linus." He waited until the phone was given to the person he had been contacting for a while.

From the other line, he heard, "Oh, hello, my dear Linus. How are you? What can I do for you, old fellow?"

Linus didn't bother with pleasantries. "She's ready. She'll be on her way to Volterra tomorrow."

He heard a light laugh from the other end. "Oh, fantastic. We have been eagerly awaiting Briar Harvard's arrival."

"Does this mean I am excused?" Linus asked timidly.

There was a long silence on the other line. "My, my, Linus. I'm terribly sorry, but the council has voted against it. I do thank you for your service, Linus."

Linus had no time to object before his head was ripped clean off of his shoulders and a lighter was thrown on his body, igniting him in flame.


	2. Chapter 2

To say that this trip was unplanned and rushed would definitely be an understatement. As soon as I had gotten home, my mother's eyes were alight with an unalienable amount of excitement. She was practically bouncing off the walls. As I walked into the door, she had ripped the tickets out of my hand and tucked them neatly in her wallet. I look past her to see that she had already dragged her suitcase out of storage and then clothing iron was being heated up to iron her clothes, and probably mine, too.

"Uhm, Mom?" I asked awkwardly, dropping my bag on the loveseat. Thankfully, I only had two take-home tests over break.

My mother zoomed around the room like a fairy before she stopped in front of me, clapping her hands together like a pleased child. "Briar, I need you to go get your suitcase ready, and bring down your clothes. I'm going to iron them," she said. She almost looked and sounded brainwashed.

"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice laced with concern.

She looked at me like I was crazy. "Of course I am. Why would you ask, dear? I'm just excited to go on a trip to _Italy _over Christmas! Oh, we'll have so much fun…" she trailed off, gathering more of her things together.

"But what about Dad?" I asked. My mother and father had been divorced for seven years now. They didn't keep a really friendly relationship with each other, to say the least, so I got to see him about once every two months on the weekend, and occasionally for the holidays. He usually was too busy working, which was inevitably why he and my mother broke up. He was a workaholic, and he took his job more seriously than he did our family. Not like I blame him. I understand fully well.

My mother's sort of emotional, as well. She starts to cry whenever something slightly out of the ordinary happens. Like for instance, when I was born, apparently she wouldn't stop crying because I was just "so beautiful". I kind of doubt that. I looked even more freakish than I do now, when I was baby, that is. My eyes took up more than three-quarters of my face at the time. Not like I hate my eyes, though. Quite contrary, actually. I love them. They sort of make people avoid me, too. Just like my odd disposition.

Anyways, my mother doesn't look anything like me. She says I look like her great-grandmother, whom I was named after, and she starts crying over that, as well. She was almost my polar opposite. She had dark hair and dark eyes. She had my pale skin, but that was about it in similarities. Her hair was straight as a bored, while mine curved out at the ends. She was also sort of plump and short. There was her personality, as well. She was always the "life of the party", and she loved too easily, which meant she got hurt pretty easily, too. The music I listened to uninterested her, and she never, ever wore makeup or did anything grand with her hair. Like I said, anything out of the ordinary freaks her out. She didn't like gore or macabre things either. In fact, just seeing blood made her panic and pass out.

Back in real life and out of my la-la land, my mother had paused for a moment, right in her footsteps, and then she turned on her heel. She looked up at me, as she always had to, and said, "Well, he'll probably be too busy anyways, dear. And besides, it's not every day that we get to go to Italy!"

She was acting so strange. "But, Mom, what about planning and stuff? We'll miss all of our family's celebrations and meals."

She just shrugged. "We can do that next year. Now go get your things like I asked you to minutes ago. I want to be packed and ready by tonight."

I huffed and quickly ascended the staircase to my room upstairs. I paused at the landing. It was full of my sketches and paintings. On the right, tucked in the corner, was my wire mannequin, which I used as a scale model for my garments. Currently, I was working on a dress that I had been wanting to work on for a while, for my mother. She was supposed to have some huge job interview in February, and I really wanted her to make an impression.

Oh, right. I forgot to tell you about my mother's job, didn't I? Well, she had gotten fired from her job just last week. There really wasn't any good explanation for it, besides the point that they just couldn't afford paying their workers anymore, so I guess she didn't really get "fired', per se. I guess she just got laid-off. That worried the hell out of me, to be honest. I usually tried not to worry about stuff, because then my mother would probably have a heart attack, but she had said that we were going to have to stop spending money so lavishly, which brought a halt to most of my designing projects, well, in the aspect of actually designing.

I saunter over to my room and gently push the door open, because if you pushed this door too hard, then it could very possibly break right off its hinges. Don't ask me why I picked out the potentially worst room in the house. I guess I just liked how it represented me. Not in a gothic, deep, sentimental way or anything. Just because I thought it was simply my "style"- weird.

For one, it was right under where the roof made a weird curve, so the walls were arranged in weird L-shapes. My four-poster bed was tucked under the most dramatic curve. Well, the one where the ceiling was high enough to fit the ostentatiously big bed. It was light purple, almost lilac, which was one of my favorite colors. I'd had it for a while, back when my parents were still together, so it was at least about 10 years old.

In the very back of the strange and intricate room, there was a picture window with a plush window seat. On the left wall of that little space, there were niches in the wood, like a makeshift bookshelf. On the right side, there was a little dry erase board that I would use to describe my current obsession of the week. This week, "Young British Designers" was sprawled in my cursive handwriting. I had added about 18 things from their store onto my wish-list from their online site.

Which brings us to where the most important thing in my life resided- my laptop. It was beneath the little window seat in a shelf. In that shelf, there was, obviously, my laptop, my various writing and drawing tablets, and my designing kits. My heavy duty materials were stored in the landing's closet, but materials I needed to do some midnight crocheting were stored precariously under an assortment of charges and other accessories for my electrical appliances.

"Hurry up, Briar!" my mother's voice shook me out of my reverie. I quickly went to my closet and picked out some of my favorite outfits, boots, and hats and rushed downstairs. My mother was still hysterical in her packing. It was driving me pretty much insane. I'm usually a pretty calm person that doesn't freak out about little things, but my mom was packing like a madman, when I'm pretty sure that the flight didn't even leave until pretty late in the morning the next day.

"Mom," I said. She started mumbling under her breath and she wouldn't respond to me. I persisted with calling her name, until, finally, I nearly shouted, "Mother!" She stopped in her tracks again and looked at me, putting her hands on her plump hips.

"Now, you know I don't like it when you do that. I heard you the first time," she said in her scolding mother tone.

What the heck? "Mom, I'm sorry. You're just acting really weird."

She nearly cut me off at my sentence. "I have no idea what you're talking about, dear. I'm acting perfectly normal." She had begun to iron out her clothes. "Now, I'm going to start dinner in a while. You can go work on some of your paintings, if you'd like, before we leave."

I awkwardly nod and make my way back upstairs. Dear lord, I had no idea what was up with my mother, but she was honestly acting insane. On any other occasion, she would have not even accepted those tickets, and she certainly wouldn't just leave the house like this, on short notice, I mean. She was one that had to plan meticulously and flawlessly, or else she'd drive herself near mad. I would much rather just "let Jesus take the wheel" and relax. Like I said, we were polar opposites, my mother and I.

Shaking off her strangeness, I decided to take her advice for painting. I ascended the stairs for a second time and went straight to my room, gathering my easel and other utensils. I had gotten a new set of paint brushes for Christmas from my aunt, but I really hadn't messed with them too much. I was always looking for new paint brushes, since I seemed to always either destroy them or lose them. I also had this weird habit that if I used a paint brush more than 27 times, then I automatically had to get rid of it. Just this strange thing I have.

I dragged my easel and my supplies out to the landing. I sat on my favorite stool and pulled the easel closer to me. I liked to paint in close proximity, usually out of laziness because my arm starts to hurt if I have to stretch it out for too long. I know, I have a low pain tolerance, which is admittedly weird, because of my strange "talent" for healing. Which brought me back to what had happened earlier. I nearly cringed. I knew that I was going to be the center of attention when we got back from break, assuming that not everyone knew about my little "incident" in the biology lab. Well, they would surely know by the time we got back.

The thought still weirded me out. I shivered a little. I got a little curious, though. I dropped my paintbrush gently on the tray and walked to my bathroom. It wasn't anything special, just a normal bathroom. I walked over to the medicine cabinet and carefully opened it, not wanting to make too much noise. The medicine cabinet was usually off limits at my house, simply because my mom got really paranoid that I was going to drug myself or something.

I picked up a knife that was precariously placed behind pill bottles of Tylenol and Advil. I twirled the handle in my hand for a while, watching the blade catch and reflect the light of the bathroom. I stopped twirling it and analyzed my wrist, seeing where it would be best to cut myself. Now, don't get me wrong. I've never cut myself in my entire life, and I wouldn't if it weren't for morbid curiosity.

Without hesitation, I make a quick, light cut over my pale skin. I bit my bottom lip as pain surges to the surface, and blood snakes its red finger down over my wrist and into the sink basin. After about 10 seconds, however, the slight wound heals, and the blood ceases instantly, and any pain I felt was now gone. I run my thumb over where I had just cut in disbelief. In more curiosity, I take the knife in my hand again, and this time, I slash it down on my wrist brutally, making sure to make a deep, serious cut.

I nearly scream because of the pain, but about a minute later, the wound closes up again, the blood stops, and the pain is gone. Not even a scar is left behind. For my last test, I close the medicine cabinet and look at myself in the mirror. I traced my skinny, elegant finger over my throat in a careful line, and, without thinking, I quickly bring the knife in an arc shape around my throat. I immediately clasp my hands over the wound that is now gushing blood. I can't breathe or swallow, and I'm choking on my own blood.

At first, I was terrified. I thought that I had just pushed myself and now I was going to die. My mother would find me and she would think that I hated her, because, allegedly, I just had committed what should've been suicide. But, sure enough, I took in sharp intake of air, and knew that the wound had closed itself. I stand up and look myself in the mirror. Yet again, there isn't a scar.

With my hands shaking, I put the knife carefully back in its place and slowly shut the medicine cabinet in disbelief. I shake my head and decide not to think about it for the rest of the night. I grab a towel and washcloth from the closet and take a shower, not allowing myself to lose my sanity to those thoughts. I walk back to my room and put my pajamas on, curling up in my window seat and pulling _The Catcher in the Rye_ from my shelf, turning it to a random page. I just stared at the same page all night.


	3. Chapter 3

At a perfectly reasonable time of five in the morning, my mother awoke me, shaking me lightly. I jolted awake and my copy of _The Catcher in the Rye _went flying. It hit my mother in the eye. She clutched her eye with her hand, but was laughing nonetheless. I started laughing with her and I picked up the flimsy soft covered book, carefully tucking it back in its niche in the bookshelf. My mother told me to be ready in 20 minutes, so I picked out my traveling clothes- a pair of black leggings with a grey sweater dress and a matching grey beanie, which I had crocheted myself. Then I slipped on my black sweater boots and made my way to the bathroom.

Naturally, I was usually an early-bird. I strongly believed in Benjamin Franklin's quote- early to bed and early to bed makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. However, I just wasn't feeling it today. I was exhausted from not sleeping too well last night. I had been terribly uncomfortable in the first place, as I couldn't stretch out on my window seat, but, of course, I was far too lazy to get up and relocate myself to my bed. Also, I had a killer headache from losing a lot of blood last night from my "experiment". I needed food, to say the least.

I hurriedly put on my day makeup and brushed through my rat's nest of hair. It was unnaturally thick, and my mother always persisted me to get it thinned out. I cried the time that I was forced to do it, when I was 10. Wisely, she hadn't pressed it upon me since then. I was kind of regretting it this morning, though. I could hear the sizzling sounds that strips of bacon made when they were in the skillet, and I could smell the sickeningly sweet smell of cinnamon rolls. I felt my slaver like a dog's.

After I was done hurriedly applying my makeup, I zoomed out the bathroom and down the stairs. My mother had just finished making breakfast, and she was setting out plates. I gracefully sat down and crossed my legs. My mother then sat down a cup of skim milk for me in an elegant mug and I sipped tentatively. To be truthful, I was still a little nervous that she would still be acting weird from last night, and I didn't want to start a conversation, honestly, because I didn't want to make her cry or anything. I hated it when people cried.

I could remember when I was younger, in second grade, actually, and one of the kids had asked me why I never cried. After all, their brains told them, she has big eyes, she must cry all of the time, right? Actually, I did cry occasionally, because of my eye condition of photophobia, which basically just meant that bright light hurt my huge eyes a lot, but in regards of crying because of my feelings, that rarely ever happened. Not because I was a hard-ass or anything, but mainly because I just got over things very quickly. I didn't like to feel mad or sad. I liked to move on and not discuss it.

Anyways, my mother sat across from me. She had a cup of coffee, which she was chugging down, while she seemed to nearly scarf down her food. I made an awkward noise in the back of my throat and took a tentative nibble at my bacon. She swallowed heavily and took another chug of her coffee.

"What's wrong? You don't like it?" she asked, a frown creasing across her forehead.

I immediately dismissed it. "No, no, I do. I just don't want to make myself sick." It was true. I don't know why I was making such a big deal over freaking bacon, so I just started to woof it down like my mother. She laughed at me and started on her cinnamon roll. I was done eating within a few minutes and I leaned back, basically pouring my milk down my gullet. I clunked the mug on the glass dining table and watched as my mother got up and shrugged her coat over her shoulders then slung her purse on. She picked up her car keys and turned to face me.

"I'll be out in the car. Come out when you're ready," she said, walking out the door.

I got up slowly and put on my pea coat. I did a once-over the house and took a deep breath. This was all still weird and foreign to me. My mother seemed to be acting more normal this morning, but I still worried. I was almost tempted to go out and tell her that I was sick or something, so we wouldn't have to go to Italy. I just got a really bad feeling about it all, and it certainly didn't help that Mr. Dunwall, of all people, gave the tickets to us. I almost wanted to give him a ring…

I decided against it and pocketed one of my tablets, which I had forgotten that I had left it downstairs. Thankfully, the mini tablet fit right inside my pocket. I grabbed my suitcase, which had all of my clothes packed in it, courtesy of my mother, and made my way outside. It was definitely starting to get chillier out. I got a little sad that I would be leaving this place. I mean, yeah, sure it was just little old Alaska, but I loved it here. It was cold and snowy and just _free_. Don't get me wrong, Italy is the fashion capitol of the world, and for that I was thankful, but I wasn't very good at adapting to new places. Like I've said several times, I scare people off because of my weirdness.

Quickly walking to mother's car, I evaded the ice patches like the suave athlete that I was. I went around to the trunk and pushed my suitcase in and slammed the hood, making sure it wouldn't pop open or something. Knowing that I had shut it, it probably would just randomly fly open on our way to the airport. I speed-walked to the passenger's side and slid in on the leather seat, thankful my mother had turned on the seat warmers. She backed out of the slick driveway and we were on our way to the airport.

It only took us about an hour to get there. We were just in time for our flight, which surprised the hell out of me. Normally, knowing my mother, we would've been here about three hours early. We breezed through security check and we got right in line with the people who were starting to get on the plane. That's when I remembered that we were flying first class. I got a little excited, admittedly. My mother and I sat in the lavish compartment almost completely by ourselves. There were a couple and four elderly men, who were visiting their assumingly other elder friend, whom apparently owned a yacht. Oh fun. Holiday yachting.

One of the hostesses came up to us and offered us muffins and orange juice. I devoured my blueberry muffin, but left my orange juice untouched. I did genuinely enjoy oranges, don't get me wrong, but for some reason, orange juice was like the epitome of evil. Like up there with Hitler and Stalin. It was just disgusting to me, honestly. I guess it was mainly because at school one year, the orange juice had been expired, and everyone who had drunk it seemed to throw it up almost instantly. It was like this disgusting orange juice blood bath, and more than one person had fallen in one of the puddles of death.

Anyways, sorry for the over-dramatization, but you get the point. Bored already, I leaned back and closed my eyes, trying to make up for the lack of sleep from last night. Apparently, I slept the rest of the trip, because the next thing I remember is my mother shaking me awake from my slumber. It was already five in the evening. I covered my mouth with my hand when I yawned and straightened up, ignoring the burn in my eyes from the sudden lightness of the compartment.

The four elderly men next to us started complaining about how tired they were and that their joints would be sore and stiff. The couple across from us looked like they had been making out for some time now, the man's hand firmly on her cheek while her hands roved up and down his chest, over his sweater vest. Admittedly, I was a little jealous. I had never had a boyfriend, ever, which shouldn't really surprise you, since I've never really even had a _friend_. I guess it wasn't necessarily a bad thing, though. At least I would never have the same reputation as Brittney, right?

When we landed, I groggily got to my feet and stretched. My mother did the same thing, and, thankfully, we were the second ones off the plane and into the airport. Instantly, I was hit with a wave of hot air. I sighed and took a deep breath. Embarrassingly enough, I had this little fear of being hot. I was fine if it was warm outside, but if I became warm and I was inside, I kind of panicked a little. I just felt trapped. I can't really explain all that well. All you need to know is that it sucked.

My mother must have sensed it, as she patted my back and briskly walked us to pick up our luggage. She easily picked ours out and she escorted us out of the crowded airport and onto the streets. Well, _street_. The airport must have been in the middle of nowhere, apparently. I looked over and saw that someone was holding a sign that said _Dunwall_. I tugged my mother's sleeve and approached the man. He gave me a charming smile.

"I expect you're the one that Linus has given his flight tickets to?" he asked.

My mother made a weird noise in the back of her throat and she blushed. I had to try my hardest not to roll my eyes. Somehow, my mother always thought that people were flirting with her. Anyways, she replied, "Yes. That would be us." She awkwardly pointed between the two of us.

He smiled again and motioned for us to follow him. I furrowed my brows. This was so weird. This made absolutely no sense. This seemed quite fishy, if you ask me, but of course no one did, so I was forced to follow my mother and this stranger. He called over his shoulder that his name was Tim. Huh. I expected something a little more exotic, I suppose, especially being this Italian mystery man.

He led us to a sleek black car and opened the door for us. I slid in first, and then my mother did. I awkwardly crossed my legs and clasped my hands over my kneecap. After putting our suitcases in the trunk, Tim went to the front of the car and elegantly seated himself on the black leather seat. He put his seatbelt on and started the engine with a soft purr. He put his foot on the gas pedal, and we were moving from the middle of nowhere to this beautiful town.

Usually, I don't have much appreciation for architecture and things like that, but this place was simply breathtaking. The cobblestone streets were only mildly busy, with a few people bustling around once in a while. The ancient-looking buildings towered over us, seeming to be made of red brick and more stone. And in the heart of it all, there was the square. A beautiful fountain occupied the center, while small shops and business lined the outside. Tim stopped right in front of this huge building with landings and decks. He told us that this is the hotel where Mr. Dunwall had made reservations for, so they were now ours.

My mother clapped her hands excitedly and nearly dragged me out of the car. Tim took out our luggage for us and set it next to us before bidding us goodbye and driving away in his little black car. My mother pulled me along with her to the reception desk. Apparently, the receptionist knew who we were, and she showed us her perfect white teeth as she smiled and handed us our door card. My mother took it, no questions asked, and we went up to our room.

As soon as I stepped foot in the room, I nearly fainted from shock. That Mr. Dunwall sure would have been spoiled if he came here, that's certain. Fancy incense was laid everywhere throughout the room, with little vases of flowers throughout them as well. Graceful paintings that depicted things like bridges and ship vessels adorned the walls, with majestic tapestries placed between them. The windows were covered with heavy, maroon colored curtains. Immediately, I went into the next room, to see that there was a bedroom. My mother called over and reported to me that she had found her bedroom, as well.

I set my suitcase down and flop myself on the feather bed, moaning slightly in comfort. I didn't even realize that I would fall asleep, but sure enough, smelling the warm scent of vanilla and that feather bed did the trick.

* * *

Tim walked up to the heavy, grand doors. The two strong men around him ushered him in what appeared to be a throne room. They pushed him up to the center and forced him to his knees. They made him look up at the majestic creatures before him- beautiful people with red eyes, that weren't really people, just like the two men holding him down.

The one in the middle descended upon him and placed his cold, dead hand on Tim's cheek. Tim looked into his red eyes, seeing a look of mystification and intrigue. He pulled his hand away after a while and smiled pleasantly. In his enthusiastic voice, he mused, "Thank you so very much for making sure our little Briar was safe. That is all we will require from your services." He looked up at the two guards flanking him. He gave them this look, which Tim didn't have time to comprehend, as the two men had already dismembered his head from his shoulders.


	4. Chapter 4

I awoke sometime early in the afternoon the next day, around 10. I groggily rub my eyes and walk my stiff limbs to the bathroom. I see that my mother has already left, leaving a note behind. It just said that she would be out for the rest of the day, and to not worry about it. I crumpled up the pink sticky note and threw it in the waste bin.

Feeling rather gross and grungy, I peel my clothes off and turn the water on in the shower. It was some pretty high-tech stuff, I gotta say, but, thankfully, it only took me about 10 minutes to get it working. I timidly step in and get goose prickles all over my skin from the rush of the cold water. I see that there was already shower supplies, so I open the bottle of sample shampoo and rub it in my thick mane, humming to myself a tune I'd made up.

After my much-needed shower, I got dressed in one of my favorite dresses in my position- a white chiffon dress with a black tie and black lacing at the bottom. I slid on my infamous flower headband and slid on tights, much to my annoyance, but I knew that it wouldn't look right without them. I chose my floral Doc Martens to finish the look up. I grabbed my tablet on the way out of the hotel, deciding that this was the best place to get inspiration for my designing. I mean, like I said, it _was _the capitol of fashion. No biggy.

I decided to set up shop at this family-owned restaurant. I ordered an il sidro, or cider, and began my work. It was pretty snug out, truthfully, for which I was thankful for. I always worked best when my mind was at ease, and even though being in cold weather was my preference, something about being warm just made my brain function better, I suppose. I don't know. I may just be I insane or something. Highly likely.

I had begun to sketch something that I really didn't even know what it was. It was just something that my imagination had sprouted and figured it would be a good idea. I started with the corset to what was supposed to be a dress, but, in short, I ended up drawing a cat in a corset. I push my tablet away, examining my work. Admittedly, I was a little frustrated with myself that I had let my attention wander, but I was staring off at someone. The most beautiful someone I had ever seen, actually.

She was clad in a rather revealing black leather dress, with lace-up, shiny, black stilettos that made her legs look lean and long. If there was anything I loved, it was when women knew how to dress their bodies and what made their proportions look even with other parts of their body. Anyways, this siren had long, reddish auburn hair that was styled in glossy waves that flowed behind her like water down a waterfall. A group of people followed in her wake. They looked like such tourists, I almost had to laugh. They had their little hats and their little cameras dangling precariously around their neck, but I only paid attention to them for a moment, as the beautiful woman was approaching me.

She dazzled me with her smile and rested herself gently against my little table. Her group watched her with such interest, that it seemed that if she were to run in front of a moving vehicle, they would just follow her. Anyways, she pulled out a little pamphlet from a pocket in the dress and slid it over to me gently, all the while watching me and smiling.

"Your name is Briar, right?" she asked sweetly. Her voice sounded like smooth velvet, and don't ask me how I know what that sounds like.

I was totally entranced by her though, and didn't even bother thinking about why she wanted/already kinda knew my name. I just nodded, my eyes probably scaring her a little bit. I tend to do that when I'm wonderstruck. My eyes just look like bright blue saucers that had been plastered on my face- they didn't belong there, nor did they even seem of an inkling to fit my face shape.

"That's wonderful. I assume that Linus had not informed you of your tour, right?" she questioned smoothly.

I just shook my head dumbfounded again. She smiled gently. "Oh, well, here's your information. I will be starting it tomorrow at noon." She finished the last part by looking directly in my eyes. "You don't want to miss it."

I blinked, and she was gone, walking down the street, with her mob of people just as awe-stricken as I was. I shook my head and took a deep breath. That was totally weird. I looked down at the little pamphlet. It was a picture of the beautiful interior of what appeared to be in a castle of some sort. On the bottom, it read:

_Explore the halls of Volterra's oldest building. Witness great art works that are centuries old. Enjoy learning about Volterra's past from our most experienced guides. We wish to see you soon._

I cocked my head and stuck the pamphlet in my pocket. Suddenly, I got the urge to go back to the hotel. I felt sick and wary, like I was being watched or something, and whoever was watching me, they surely scared the living hell out of me. I paced the streets quickly, excusing myself, well, at least trying. More than half of the people didn't even know a single word of English, I'll bet, but, eventually, I did get back to the hotel.

Walking straight through the lobby and to the elevator, I got some weird looks from the other guests, but the receptionist just smiled and waved, welcoming me back to the hotel. I pressed the bottom to get to my floor and awkwardly held my right elbow with my left hand the elevator slowly ascended. It felt like hours before I was finally left off. I zoomed to my room and nearly slammed the door behind me, finally feeling at least semi-safe.

My mother was already home, and she was making some sandwiches for lunch. I smiled at her faintly and made a beeline to my room, but she stopped me short. She had seen the edge of the pamphlet sticking out from my pocket. Shi- "What have you got there, sweetie?" she asked, putting down the knife she was using to cut cheese.

I shrugged, trying to dismiss it. If she saw it, surely she'd make us go, and I just got a weird feeling about it. "It's nothing. Just some Jehovah's Witness pedaling their nonsense."

She furrowed her dark brows and put her hand on her hip and motioned for me to bring the pamphlet to her. I sighed and walked over slowly, and pulled out the pamphlet just as slowly. I carefully thrust it at her and pray to God that she doesn't make us go. Unfortunately, her eyes light up and she smiles like a fiend. She starts to sort of dance around and then she puts the pamphlet in her purse.

"Oh, Briar, we have to go! This is the chance of a lifetime!" she exhumed, using heavy hand motions.

I nearly roll my eyes at the irony. "But, Mom, I don't want to."

She looked at me like I had just spoken Russian or something. After a moment of silence, she finally replied, in a stern voice, "We're going. Whether you like it or not, we're going. And that's final." She emphasized her point by picking up the kitchen knife and waving it at me. Great. This was going to be fun…


	5. Chapter 5

The next day, I was ready by 11:30 for this damn tour. I was in a pissy mood, and my mother certainly hadn't helped that. I had gotten up pretty early for this, as well. I had taken my shower, eaten breakfast, and gotten dressed in my peplum blouse with tight leather pants and my black pumps. If I was going to some tour all day, I might as well look as sassy as I felt. I even put on red lipstick, which definitely highlighted and accented my oddly shaped lips.

My mother and I made our way through the town to where we were supposed to meet up with our tour guide. We were the last ones there, and it looked like everyone was waiting for us to hurry up. Despite my rebellious attitude, I still felt embarrassed and insensitive. I hated being judged on my punctuality, mainly because it would make me look like a hypocrite. I used to always get very angry with my father when he would be late to pick me up from somehwere, which was actually quite frequently.

When we were in the circle with the other tourists, our guide, the same woman from yesterday, revealed herself. She spoke up in that same beautiful voice. "Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for attending this tour. My name is Heidi, and I will be your tour guide. Follow me, please."

And just like little lemmings, we followed her. She led us through the square and through other alleys and such, but it was plain to see that no one was really listening to her. We were all just looking at her. Truthfully, I never thought someone could be so perfect. It shocked me that she was a mere tour guide in this quaint little city of Volterra. If I had seen her any other time and in different context than our first meeting, I would surely think that she was a high-fashion model for Vogue or Versace. Surely not just a tour guide…

Finally, after walking around for about an hour and a half, we came to a stop before an old, secluded building. I mean, honestly, if I had just been walking past it any other day, I wouldn't have even seen it. She gave two firm knocks on the old door, and, almost immediately, there was someone opening the door. Audible gasps came from within our group of tourists. Whoever had opened the door was almost as beautiful as Heidi. His dark skin looked to be like liquid mocha, and his raven hair was slicked back. He bowed and opened the door further, allowing Heidi to walk in and usher to us to follow her.

Once we were all inside, the door was shut, and bolted shut with a lock. I seemed to be the only one who picked up on this information, though, as everyone else acted as if everything was perfectly fine, even though I was mentally screaming. Why would they need to deadbolt the door? Were they trying to keep someone out? Or someone in…

I tried to get my mind off of it by taking in the scenery. This place was very beautiful in a gothic, dark way. Ancient wall sconces with candle light dancing on them were placed in exact proportions on the grey stone walls. Statues of the Artemision Bronze and Riace bronzes were placed at seemingly every corner they turned. Big, ancient vases were also littered here and there, with some sort of winter rose that I didn't know that name of, but I was guessing that it was some sort of Helleborus.

Even with my distractions, I got nervous and this sick feeling swept over me again. I began to straggle in the back of the pack and when the whole group halted before big, ornate doors, I got even more nervous. Heidi opened the doors and the group started to move in, until it got to me. I was last in line, and Heidi suddenly clocked me in the chest, holding her arm out. I coughed out a breath of air, and suddenly, I was being dragged backwards. I could screaming and devilish laughter from Heidi. I started to freak out. My breathing became much faster and I started to claw at her arm, but was horrified when I felt her skin. It was granite-hard and terribly cold.

When we got to the end of some hallway, she unlocked a big door and literally _threw _me in the room. Now, I get it, I didn't weigh that much, but still. I was a couple of inches taller than her, at least, and she didn't seem like she'd be able to just lob me in there, but she did it with ease, and then slammed the door with such force that I thought it would break. After, I heard what sounded like my death sentence- the _click _of a lock.

I looked around the desolately dark room. A grand fireplace was to my right, but that was really the only source of light. It was also bone-chilling cold in here. I wished that I had brought a jacket, since my blouse was sleeveless. I pulled up a lounge chair and got closer to the fire and rubbed my hands. I had no idea what was going on, but I wanted to think rationally and calmly about my situation. I hated it when people got very worked up, and they instinctively thought that the only answer was to escape by way of violence or rebellion.

I tried to tell myself that maybe it was a part of the tour. I mean, maybe they were just trying to scare us or something? But that wouldn't really make sense. Surely they wouldn't have taken the rest of the tourist group in those big, scary doors, and just lock me in here. That also wouldn't explain why there was screams. That part chilled me to the bone. I had identified that one of those screams had surely been my mother's.

Letting out a frustrated groan, I stood up and explored the room a little more. It was pretty big, and there was a huge bed in the corner, which I had missed in the first place. At the bed's foot, there was a huge chest with dust on it. I gave it a light kick, to see if it was hollow or not. I heard shuffling and glass dropping inside of it. I cringed and backed away from the chest. I wouldn't have been able to open it, anyways. There was a key lock on it, and, obviously, there wasn't a key.

I walked to the other corner of room and saw a little bench with a scroll-like paper sprawled across it. There were pins on the four corners of it, to keep the parchment from curling up. It looked brittle and hard, and I didn't want to touch it. I couldn't read what was on it, anyways. It looked like some form of Greek. I had actually taken Greek for my freshman year and half of my sophomore year, but I just never really liked it, I guess. Especially when they started to teach us Ancient Greek. Good lord that sucked. Almost as much as my current situation.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a metallic flap being opened and closed, like those old mail slots. I tentatively walked over and swallowed the dry lump that had formed in my tight throat. I saw that there was a piece of paper on the ground with a little red ribbon around it. I plucked it up off the ground gracefully and sat down in the lounge chair in front of the fire before opening the paper.

As I felt it, I realized that this was probably some sort of really expensive stationery. It was thick and voluptuous in size. I carefully undid the silk ribbon and let it drop down to the floor. With shaking hands, I opened the letter to see that there were only a few simple sentences on it. It read:

_Hello, Briar. We hope you are becoming acquainted in your designated living quarters. There will be an audience in a few short days, for us to discuss some rather important subjects with you. Until then, we thank you for your patience._

It wasn't signed or anything, but the writing was beautiful enough to have made her calligraphy teacher go home and hang it on his fridge. I shakily fold the letter back up and set it on the little coffee table next to the fireplace. I cross my legs and rest my chin on my hand. It had just begun to sink in that the magnitude of my situation was very serious. Someone had kidnapped me, and they wanted to have an "audience" with me.

There was also the fact that the word "we" had been used several times, stating that there was probably more of "them" than just Heidi and that colored man. I started to shiver. Whoever this was, if this was their idea of a joke, was truly demented. I was genuinely starting to get terrified. I started to think of the worst things possible. What if it was some sort of cult that just raped people? What if they were a mafia? What if they were aliens or something? Ok, well, that last part seems a little unrealistic, but, you never know.

That last statement also chilled me to the bone. I had no idea how long it would actually take for this said "audience". Even though this mysterious person said it would only be a couple of days, I figured it would be much longer than that. I'm not really sure how patient I could be. There was also the possibility that this "audience" wouldn't even take place. This was all very confusing and my eyes were starting to hurt from watching the flames. I retreated back to the corner and rolled the blanket back from the bed.

Even in the circumstances, I will have to say that that bed was the best thing I'd ever sat on. It even beat that hotel's bed. I pulled the covers up to my chin and rolled on my right side, watching the door out of the corner of my eye. Suddenly, I felt a strange moisture creep down my cheek. It took me a moment to realize that I was actually crying. I hurriedly wiped the tear away from my large eye, but another one just flowed in its place. Then another, and another, until, finally, I found myself having a full-blown sob fest.

I cried nearly all the rest of that day, a million things blowing up in my brain. I was truly fucked.

* * *

The beautiful man in the middle clasped his hands together, and smiled his usual smile. He was truly giddy. How fortunate it was that miss Briar Harvard had come into his possession so quickly. He was nearly bouncing off the walls with his excitement to finally meet her. He had only seen glimpses of her, courteous to the now deceased Linus Dunwall. To the man's right and left, however, the other gorgeous men were not at all as pleased.

The dark haired, bored one just sighed. "Brother, it is not of that much importance to get so excited. We have gone through this process many a time before."

The blonde on the right agreed in a more hateful. "Yes, exactly, Brother. The girl will just become a liability. We do not have room for liabilities, especially if you do truly wish to keep her in her frail human form. She must be eliminated. There are no other options."

The man in the middle just _tsked_. "Now, now, Brothers. There is no need to be hasty. She will just get adjusted here in her mortal form. We do not wish to risk our order, do we? Just be patient. More will be decided in the future." Suddenly, with lightning speed that shouldn't have been able to be achieved by any mere human, he finished, "In the meantime, alert the other guards, will you, Brothers? I do not want a mess to deal with when I return."

The blonde grumbled, but the dark haired man had already lost interest, as usual.


	6. Chapter 6

Presence. It was definitely something I deemed as important, and the three beautiful creatures before me surely had it. I gulped and took a shaky breath as I was gruffly pushed closer to them by my escort- a man named Felix, who was seemingly just as flawless. I nervously wrapped my arms around me and wait for one of the three to speak. It had surely taken them long enough to retrieve me, that was for sure.

I had sat in the same room that I was exiled in for nearly three weeks, with food being pushed through the flap in the door twice a day. It had been pure torture to be by myself for such a long time. No matter how strange everyone deemed me to be, I would have died if not for their socialization. I surely thought I had been left in that room to rot. Even my quaint little fireplace had run out of flame on the third day. I had been forced to throw some of the old books in it, just so it would stay lit.

When the fire had been put out, it was nearly pitch black in that room- or holding cell, whichever way you put it. I had resorted to counting every single strand on my head. When I had gotten into the millions, I figured I should probably quit, before I drove myself mad. Then, I started to rip up the comforter on the enormous bed. I'd tie it in knots and design scarfs for myself. My pillows were also victims of my creativity and bored-ness, as I had started to tie the covers in one big toga. Of course, when I had done that, the feathers from within the pillows had spilled out onto the floor, so I just avoided that side of the bed entirely.

On the second week of my capture, I had begun to notice just how much my personal hygiene was lacking. My hair was like a huge matted, feathery ball of grease. I hated touching it, and I cringed when it would rub against my bare shoulders, which was inevitable, because my shirt was close to being sleeveless and my hair was so long. My clothes felt rotten and grungy, and I decided to take them off before they ended up sticking to my flesh, permanently. I had been forced to wear my toga.

The last week had by far been the worst. My room was a mess, with feathers and fabrics everywhere. Books were all strewn on the floor, mainly because of my several temper tantrums, and tables were turned over on their sides in my futile attempt to attract their attention. All of those efforts were worthless, and I just tired myself out even more. I slept most of the time, since it seemed like the ultimate escape from this prison, but one person can only sleep for so long.

On the day that I was taken out, I nearly cried with relief. First, Heidi had opened my door. I nearly ran and hugged her, for God's sake. She motioned for me to follow her, and I did, down long, curving hallways, until, finally, she brought me to a restroom. She instructed on me to take a shower and get dressed in the clothes that had been provided for me. She'd also said that she would be standing right outside the door, so I didn't get any ideas. In all honesty, there was no possible way I would have even dreamed of pulling something like that, actually. I was terrified of whoever had stuck me in here. They obviously had some power, because, surely, the authorities would be wondering where a whole group of people had disappeared to, assuming the other people I was with never "made it out".

When I had walked into the bathroom, I was wonder stricken. The whole floor was black and white marble that had a glossy, fresh-cleaned gleam over it. I felt disrespectful as I walked over the master piece. The toilet was also a porcelain wonder, with all sorts of fancy gold trimmings. I thought it was a bit ostentatious for a bathroom, but I was thankful, all the same. The shower itself reminded me of the one at the hotel, but I swear I had never had a better shower. I had been so overcome with happiness that I had actually started to lightly weep a little bit. I know, not in my proudest moments, but hey, try going three weeks without any form of communication or hygiene.

After my reinvigorating shower, I stepped out carefully and towel-dried my thick mop of blonde curls, which had been neglected as well. I examined the clothing they had given me- a simple black dress that reached my knees, black fish-net tights, black flats, and a black, silky robe. I almost considered going without the robe, but I didn't want to seem rude. After getting dressed, I nearly almost cried again when I saw a hairbrush. I carefully made my way through the forest that was my hair until it shone and gleamed healthily.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and saw Heidi standing opposite me, leaning nonchalantly against the wall. She was bored-ly examining her nails. When she saw that I had opened the door, she flicked her crimson red eyes up to meet mine. My breath hitched in my throat as her _red _eyes chilled me to the bone. I furrowed my brows and took a step back. She just smirked and opened her mouth to say something, but a swish of cold air interrupted her. She sighed, annoyed.

"Felix, you don't always have to make such a scene," she said.

Suddenly, a man, presumably Felix, appeared in front of me, blocking my view of Heidi with his enormous frame and stature. Good lord, the man must have been near seven feet tall. "Oh, Heidi, that would be taking all of the fun out of it. You know how much I love to scare the new ones," he said in a joking drawl.

I heard Heidi sigh. "Fine, whatever, but the master won't be happy if you kill her."

My eyes widened. So they were a mafia of some sort then. I vaguely wondered if this Felix would kill me with his gun or with his own bare hands. Both seemed equally affective. "You know I won't," Felix replied, chuckling lightly.

I heard another swish of air and then Felix turned towards me. I saw that Heidi had gone. I silently wished she hadn't left, although I had no idea how she had been able to run away that fast. It left me as puzzled as to how Felix had been able to do that as well. And then there were their _eyes_. Upon further notice, I had seen that both had these pools of red eyes. It had been a true feat that someone had had them in the first place, but not _two _someone's. Maybe it was a symbol of their mafia.

Roughly, Felix gripped my upper arm and yanked me next to him before leading us down hallways. My hair flew behind my face and I wondered how were walking- no _gliding_, so fast down these halls. I watched as Felix's feet barely even seemed to touch the ground. As we whipped around corners, I started to wish that I had just stayed in my little holding cell. Sure, it was gross and confining and miserable, but the threat that loomed before me was scarier, in a sense.

We continued our jog through the hallways until we came a set of intimidating doors that loomed overhead like a certain death. I took a deep breath. This reminded me a lot of my first day to high school. Doors like the ones above me were there, and it was my mother who was dragging me to the doors. I had been acting like a little girl I had seen at preschool earlier in life. She would scream and hold onto her mother's legs like it was the only thing keeping her anchored to this earth.

Anyways, we're back to where we started. I was looking up at the three men before me and gulped again, this time a deep breath following. The man in the middle seemed to be accessing the situation before him before gracefully rising from his seat and making his way to me, over the marbled floors, which also had a beautiful polish done to them. When the mad stopped before me, I noticed, yet again, he had red eyes as well, except his were lighter in color, almost pinkish, due to the film that seemed to cover his eyes. I vaguely wondered if it impaired his vision.

He took a grand breath, as if warning me that I should pay attention. His voice boomed out in a cheery, yet domineering manner. "Welcome, young Briar Harvard! It is so great for us to finally meet you, my dear."

I awkwardly nodded and blushed, feeling heat turn up in my cheeks and ears. The man smiled. "Oh, isn't she a shy one, Brothers?"

The man on the right scoffed. His shiny blonde hair looked a little odd with his pale skin. "Brother, we do not have time to waste on formalities."

The man before me _tsked _lightly. "Now, now, Caius. We should at least explain to our guest, shall we not? After all, she has been waiting so, so patiently." A strange smile spread across his lips.

The man in the back, named Caius, just shook his head and barked out harshly, "Fine, be on with it, then."

"Now, where we were, Miss Briar? Hmmmm…. Ah yes!" He paused dramatically for a moment before continuing, "I am Aro, and the two behind me are Caius and Marcus." He gestured behind him. Marcus only stirred slightly at the acknowledgement at his name, but Caius smirked at me, baring his teeth.

Aro continued, "Now, what I'm about to tell you is somewhat of our "dirty secret", here in Volterra." Another pause. "We are vampires."

I looked at him strangely, not even realizing how rude of a gesture it was. I nearly scoffed. _What? Vampires? _That's not even possible! My mouth is agape as I watch Aro smile at me, waiting for me to say something back. I manage a weak and stupid, "What?"

Aro laughed in a strange, high-pitched cackle. "Oh, my dear, you are in such disbelief. It is painted on your face for all to see." He looked behind him. "Is it not, Brothers?" Caius sneered at me, as if offended that I was wasting his time and Marcus just nodded slowly.

Aro turned back to me, a sudden darkness crossing over his face. "Perhaps we should prove ourselves…" he said more to himself than to anyone else. In a louder voice, he commanded, "Santiago, bring me this human's mother."

A dark skinned vampire zoomed out of the room. I recognized him as the one I had seen who had greeted Heidi, when I had first come to this castle. Shortly, Santiago returned with my mother. My heart beat quickened. I looked over at Aro. He had a sick and manipulative look on his face. He rubbed his hands together as my mother was brought over to us. Santiago unceremoniously dumped her at Aro's feet before muttering "Master" and returning to the shadows underneath the columns that lined the room.

Aro pulled my mother to her feet with startling, but amazing, speed and strength. She looked absolutely drained and she was mumbling incoherent things. I covered my mouth and widened my eyes as Aro played with the hair that was covering her neck. He tilted her neck to the side and ran his fingers over her throat and neck, giggling lightly to himself.

"You see, Briar, many things about vampires are fake- such as we do not burn in the sun, and we do not turn into bats. However, we do obtain mortality, and feats of incredible speed and strength. We are perfection in the humans' eyes, as our physical beauty is used to attract our prey. Our need for blood, also, is our dominating feature. Many of us, when we are first turned, cannot resist the temptation to feed on fragile humans, such as yourself. I, however, am strong enough, and old enough, to ignore such things." Aro told her all of this as he traced the outline of her mother's jugular.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened next. Aro smiled down at my mother, and suddenly, he widened his jaws and clamped down over her neck. I watched in horror as blood streaked out of her neck and onto the floor. Her legs gave out, and Aro had to support her body. I was frozen in place. I didn't know what to do. My legs were like lead, and my heart was like a bird in a cage.

Finally, I managed to scream out, "Stop! Please! Please stop! I'm begging you!" I dropped to my knees. Aro looked down at me with sad eyes as he threw my mother's body to the side. He offered his hand, but I just shook on the ground. This _monster _had just _killed _the person who had made my life possible. The one person who I would've died for, and I felt like I had failed her.

Aro didn't really give me a choice to grovel, though. He swiftly grabbed my hand and pulled me up. His hand was cold, like he was a dead body. I shivered and pulled my hand back to my warm chest. My heartbeat was still pounding in my ribs and in my ears. I sucked in air and watched as Aro started to laugh a little.

"Now it seems as fine as ever to test her so called "gifts", Brother," Caius barked out crudely from atop his seat.

Aro looked back at him, as if considering something, and then he dragged my mother's body back over to me. He stepped back and shrugged, his amused eyes watching me. I didn't understand what he wanted until I realized they wanted me to attempt to bring my mother back to life. I swallowed the tightness in my throat as I kneeled onto the floor. I refused to look at the soulless eyes my mother had and placed my hand on her shoulder. I tried to channel my energy or something, but, eventually, nothing happened.

I looked up, defeated. Aro frowned, but said, "Ah, Brothers, it seems she is not strong enough yet. It seems her gifts have not developed yet."

I squeaked out, "Gifts?"

Aro smiled at me. "Ah, yes, I apologize my dear. I have forgotten to explain to you why I wanted you here in the first place. Let me begin with my explanation of what a gift is. The luckiest vampires, you see, are what we call gifted. They possess a sort of "super-power", if you will. Here, in Volterra, we are the Volturi, the law enforcers of the vampire world. In order to maintain such a title, we collect vampires who are gifted to the highest degree. You, Briar, have the capacity to be very useful to us."

"As a vampire," I finished.

Aro nodded. "Ah yes. The date of which you will be turned is yet to be set. I would like to see your history, if I may."

He extended his pale, cold hand. I furrowed my brows. Aro chuckled a little. "Briar, relax. It is only my gift as a vampire. I am able to see every thought your human mind has ever harbored, with just a single touch."

I nod, and warily, I put my hand in his. He clasps my hands in his and a look of glee spreads across his face. When he is done, he releases my hand and hurriedly goes back to his seat in between Marcus and Caius. I furrow my brows again at his odd behavior.

"My, my. I believe that is enough for today. Felix, take her to her new room." He paused one last time. "The one by Alec." The tension in the room seemed to build, and Felix just chuckled at me as he escorted me through the halls before pushing me to my room.

"Good luck. You're gonna need it," he said before shutting and locking my door. Goose flesh prickled my flesh. What was that supposed to mean?


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you very much for the reviews, favorites, and follows. Have yourself a Merry Christmas, everyone. It is now time for me to show family members pictures of decapitations and burned limbs. 'Tis the season! **

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I sat alone in that room for only two days before this Alec character found out about me. Apparently, he had been taking care of a "situation", regarding something that Heidi wouldn't tell me. I had been very confused when Heidi had come to tell me all of this stuff. I still didn't really understand why it was necessary to tell me, but she just wanted me to be forewarned, I guess. Truthfully, the more I heard about Alec, the scarier he became. It almost felt like these "people" were throwing me to the wolves.

I had been picking at the hems of the comforter on my bed when my door suddenly opened. Thinking that I was Heidi, I casually got up from the bed, but was roughly pushed back on the mattress. A burst of air came from my lungs and I saw stars for a moment. I almost thought that I had been knocked out, but then whatever had knocked me down got up from their hold on my neck, keeping me pinned down. I looked to see that my assaulter was a boy who seemed about 19 in age, but something told me he was much older than that.

He had red eyes, as all the others, and his skin was pale as an egg, but my breath was taken away, something none of the others had been able to do. He was simply pulchritudinous. His black hair was cut short on the sides and longer on top. He held himself in a regal and elegant way. A smirk was spread on his perfect lips as he watched me lose my breath. I coughed lightly and sat up a little more in the bed, suddenly feeling how intimate the situation was.

"I take it you're Alec?" I ask timidly. Big mistake.

His smirk turned into a sneer and he spat out, "You will not talk to me unless you are spoken to, do you understand?"

Flabbergasted with fear, I just nodded, my heart beat escalating to my throat, where it stayed. I took a shaky breath and slowly edged away from him. His hard expression softened lightly. "Because you were misinformed, I will answer your question. Yes, I am Alec."

I wanted to ask him so many more questions, but I knew that it wouldn't be smart to open my mouth. He tilted his head at me, considering. "I will allow you to ask three questions."

Nodding, I asked, "How old are you?"

He chuckled lightly, that smirk playing on his lips again. "14."

I furrowed my brows. His smirk increased. "Surprised?"

I just nodded, dumbfounded. I asked him another question. "How old are you really?"

Alec smiled lightly and I felt my heart flip flop. Even though he scared the shit out of me, he sure was gorgeous. "Just getting into my thousands."

I sucked in a sharp intake of breath. Holy crap… For my last question, I chose the most knowledgeable, seemingly. "Aro told me that vampires have special gifts. I assume that you have one, then?"

Alec only smirked and walked up to the foot of my bed and leaned his weight on it. "I don't think you want to see it."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. He chuckled darkly. "I like you," he said. "You're very naïve. Almost innocent. It's been a long time since I've met someone like you. Most are corrupted by the technology, this age."

"I was never allowed to have contact with the social media," I said. I clasped my hands over my mouth, immediately, though, afterwards. I was terrified. I wasn't really sure if I was speaking out of turn or not, but I wanted to play it safe. Alec was a vampire, after all, and his gift was apparently very frightening.

Alec laughed harder. "You're a little impulsive, aren't you?"

I nodded and slowly put my hands back down to my sides. I wanted to ask this mysterious seraph another question, but I didn't want to push it. He was probably just enjoying watching me squirm. After living over a thousand years, what else is there to do that would occupy time? Playing with people's mentalities seemed like a great past time for a vampire.

"I bet you're wondering why I'm here," he finally said, walking gracefully around the corner of the bed and sitting down at the foot.

Inwardly, I thanked the holy lord. It was actually the exact question that had been running through my mind. I nod at him and he sighed and leaned all the way back on the bed, putting his hands behind his head. Everything he did, even the small things, drew my attention and made me stare in the strangest way. It could probably even be classified as pedophilic, in actuality. In my defense, he did look 19.

"Master has asked me to ensure that you will be most comfortable here, until your date to be turned is set. Think of me as your authoritative-mentor-with-benefits," he said, the last part he added with a sly grin as his beautiful red eyes connected with mine.

I opened my eyes wide and my mouth gaped. The last part was what had caught my ears. _With benefits_? He wasn't implying sex, was he? He chuckled again. "What is your question this time?"

It took me a minute to work up the courage to ask him one simple word that held several different meanings, "Sex?"

He smirked. "Of course. We vampires are known partly because of our sensuality. I also heard that you're quite durable. Of course, we'll just have to wait and see if I'll break you. I wouldn't be surprised, but Master wouldn't be very happy about that."

I had no idea how to react. He was 14! Sure, he was a vampire and such, but still! 14! And he was making some pretty vulgar comments as well. I just looked at him with a stupid look on my face. He said, "Don't seem so surprised. I'm over a thousand years old. My perpetual age means nothing. At any rate, you don't really have a choice, now do you?"

My heart started to hammer again. His sensitive hearing must've caught it as he smirked at me again. "Oh, we're going to have a lot of fun together, Briar. But first, I would be most interested in your story."

After a few moments of silence, I saw that he was starting to get slightly frustrated, so I started. "There isn't really much to tell. I'm 16. I liv- _used _to live in Alaska. My parents got divorced when I was pretty young, but I still, well, _did _see them regularly." It was hard to explain to him some of this stuff, mainly because I had to talk in the past.

Alec looked at me expectantly. "There has to be more than that." He sounded like a spoiled child asking for more Christmas presents.

"Not really. I was always an outsider at school. I would've been valedictorian if I'd have stayed at that school. I'm an only child. I wanted to be a fashion designer or a model, but I don't have high hopes of that happening anymore," I finished, crossing my arms awkwardly.

A frown marred his beautiful face. "Your human life is rather _tame _compared to mine."

Bravely, I said, "Let's hear it."

He looked a little put-off, but scoffed it away. "Alright then. I was born in England, around 800 AD, as was my twin sister, Jane. Aro always had his eyes on us, from seeing us through the eyes of other people's thoughts he'd read, much like how he'd found out about you. Aro was going to wait until Jane and I were of appropriate age to be changed, but the villagers had other thoughts. They attempted to burn us at the stake, but Aro stopped them. Our gifts were too powerful, you see, for Aro to risk losing us. We are often called the cornerstones of the Volturi because of them."

He accessed me before saying, "You may speak."

"There isn't much to say to that," I said breathlessly. Alec had started to look sick with grief as he frowned and ran his hands through his hair.

"You really want to know my gift?" he asked, sitting up suddenly. He seemed almost crazy.

I nodded my head unsurely before he flew back to the foot of my bed. He spread his hands apart and I watched with morbid fascination as a black mist crept from his palms and made its way over the covers of the bed. The smirk on Alec's face was the last thing I saw before I was hurtled into some sort of alternate universe, where I saw nothing, felt nothing, and heard nothing.


	8. Chapter 8

When I awoke from the strange dream-land, the room was completely dark. The heavy curtains had been pulled away from the window frame, revealing a beautiful starry sky through the open window. A light breeze was coming in steadily, swirling the lighter curtains gently. I shiver a little and rub my hands over my cold shoulders. I felt strange and unknowing, like when you wake up from a nap after school and you're not even sure what year it is anymore.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and closed the window. I yawned, continuing to look out the window for a minute. I smiled lightly at the calming view, completely forgetting about my situation for a moment. Suddenly, a face staring at me through the reflection of the window made me have a near heart attack. I gasped and jumped back, falling right into the clutches of none other than Alec.

His chest vibrated against my back as he chuckled. "I was wondering when you'd recover," he said darkly, brushing my hair to the side and placing a chaste kiss against the warm skin, the warmth clashing with chill of his lips.

I take in an unsteady breath. "What did you do to me?"

He laughs. And no, not just his usual, little, dark chuckle- he's clutching his stomach and bent over, a huge grin plastered on his angelic face as he laughs and laughs and laughs. When he's regained his composure, he stands up straight and looks me in the eye- a habit I noticed that he had. "You asked me to show you my gift, and I did. You act as though I just knocked you unconscious. I just simply deprived you of your senses."

I swallow the lump in my throat. He continues, "Oh, and don't think I will forget our little rule, yes? You are not to speak unless spoken to? It seems you've already grown too comfortable. Make no mistake- we are not "friends", or allies in any sort. You are my pet, to do with as I please until Aro and the others have reached an agreement. And, I fear, that may be a very long while. Your punishments will be swift and painless on my part, however. While it may seem like it, I do not have all of the time in the world to waste upon being in the same room as you."

I wasn't able to protest to anything before Alec harshly pushed me back and slapped me across the face so hard that a tooth popped out on the rug next to me. I felt the rush of blood enter my mouth and the coppery tang overrode my taste buds. Alec flared his nostrils at me and placed his hand over his mouth and looked me over one last time before eloquently proceeding to deprive me of my senses again.

When I awoke for the second time, the curtains were drawn over the windows, but a fair amount of sunlight managed to shine through and soak the room in a golden hue. I rubbed my sensitive eyes and placed my tongue to where the gap should be for my tooth, but was met with a perfectly fine tooth. I furrowed my brows and pushed the heavy blankets off of me and sauntered over to the window, examining my face. I had also expected a blue and black explosion of a bruise on my face, for being slapped by a damned vampire, but my skin was the same snow white pallor as always.

My door creaked open to my left and I looked cautiously. I was unbelievably relieved to see Heidi. She stood in the doorway and announced, "Aro wishes to have another audience with you." She added at the end, "A private audience." I nodded and followed Heidi through the maze of cobblestone walls.

While I was relieved that it would be private audience, I was still terrified at the prospect of meeting with Aro again. There was some sort of sick, twisted thing to him that I didn't know yet. I suspected it was because he was so old, and, ergo, he was a tremendous liar and actor. He knew how to cover things up and make sure his emotions, thoughts, and intents were all in order and lined up in a row. To him, life seemed to be some sort of elaborate chess move that brings you closer and closer to getting a check mate.

Heidi led us to a beautiful gazebo that was lined in glass windows. Elegantly placed were two plates, but only one had something on it- two lemon squares with a chocolate-covered strawberry joining at their sides. A delicate and ornate cup was set next to the plate, and I could see a tea bag stuck in the dark liquid. I laughed bitterly, on the inside. What an effort Aro has made.

That was when I noticed the darkly robed figure gliding gracefully towards us. Heidi bowed and left the room without a moment's hesitation. I walk over to my seat and sit, crossing my right leg over my left one as I stir the tea bag in the tea cup very slowly. Aro had seated himself across from me at this point and he had that same childish grin like he always had. I could just tell that he couldn't wait to get his hooks in me again.

"I hope you like tea," he said idly, watching my stir.

I raise my eyes up, but don't look him in the eye. Well, I guess _can't _would be a more appropriate word. "You knew I would," I state plainly. He'd probably seen that I had a serious hot tea addiction through his gift.

He laughed lightly. "You are correct, dear." He licked his lips and placed his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his fingertips. "I am rather eager to work with you today." He saw that I stuttered in my stirring. "Oh, please continue. It would be a shame to let this go to waste, would it not?" I nod cautiously and bring a lemon square up to my lips and take a tentative nibble. It was delicious, of course.

"What did you do with my mom?" I asked, taking a sip of tea.

Aro's smile widened. "I disposed of her body. What more would you expect, dear?"

A shiver run up my spine. So it was definite, then. She was gone. I swallowed the dry lump in my throat. There was no way that I could cry in front of Aro. Not in front of my mother's murderer. "What do you want from me?" I already knew the answer, but I guess a small glimmer of hope wished that Aro would say, _Haha! Got ya! You're on the latest episode of Pranked and we totally got you! _ And then my other would come for me and then I'd punch her out, but then I'd be sure to hug her afterwards. Nothing as such happened, though, unfortunately.

Instead, he just sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Briar, you already know the answer to that question. You are to become one of us, soon enough. Well, I supposed as long as I convince my Brothers that you are gifted. Which is the goal of today, my dear." With that, he rose from his seat and gestured for me to follow. I stood up and followed him outside.

Within the gazebo, the glass must have been very thick, for Aro's skin didn't gleam as it did outside. It nearly blinded me, in honesty. I had a hard time looking at him at all. He led us to a hedge, though, and the height of it blocked out the sun, so I could finally see again. When I looked down, there was a man groveling on the ground, but it seemed like he was mute, as he was trying to speak, but nothing came out.

Aro brought his lip up in disgust before he lightly kicked the man aside. Well, it seemed light, but in reality, I knew that it must felt like a train hitting him in the side. Then I got nervous. What if Aro killed this man and expected me to resurrect him? I didn't want to be responsible for this stranger's life- I didn't want to be responsible for _anyone_'s life. Thankfully, Aro just spoke to him in Italian and the man rushed off before coming back with a chicken. He carefully set it before me and bowed before scuttling off somewhere else.

Aro cleared his throat. "Now, Briar, I will kill this hen. After, I want you to reanimate it. Do you understand?" As he finished his last words, I saw the figures of Caius and Marcus emerge, along with Alec and another little girl- whom I assumed to be Jane, Alec's twin sister, or so he had told me. I nervously looked up at Aro and nodded. He smiled that over-enthusiastic grin and gracefully swept down and broke the chicken's neck.

I swallowed and bent down on shaky knees and placed my hands directly on the bird's silky feathers, not looking at the glassy look in its eye. I took a deep breath and tried channeling my energy again, or at least trying to do something like that. I had no idea how I had made that pigeon come to life in Biology, but it seemed to work when I didn't focus, so, all of a sudden, I just looked up at Alec and cleared my mind from focusing on the hen.

Suddenly, I felt the feathers ruffle and bristle and the chicken bounced back to life. It jumped up and squawked and then proceeded to scratch me with its claws on its feet. I reeled my hand back and cradled my arm with my hand. Aro quickly picked me up and brought me back inside, but, by then, I had already become unconscious from the deep scratch from that damnable chicken.


	9. Chapter 9

**So, here is one of the reasons this fic was most recently "upgraded" to Rated M. Also, this fic will take on a somewhat more prominent BDSM them than the hints and traces you've seen thus far.**

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My eyes fluttered open and I stretched, or at least tried to. I bit my bottom lip in discomfort as I found that I was hooked up with all sorts of strange wires. I grumbled and sat up fully. There was a bandage on my hand and I peeled it away hesitantly, half-surprised to see that there wasn't even a scar on my hand, and that scratch had been deep. Suddenly, everything came back to me and I sighed and leaned back into the hospital bed. Damn Aro, damn that chicken, damn Caius and Marcus, but, most of all, damn Alec.

I sighed again and placed my hands over my eyes. Whenever Alec crossed my mind, it was hard to get my train of thought off of him. It drove me crazy, especially knowing that Aro could just touch me and see every single thought that has ever crossed my mind about that damn Alec. And then there was the thing that always hung in the air- they wanted to turn me into a vampire. Well, at least Aro did, and something told me that when Aro wanted something, he definitely got it, but surely not without fighting with his brethren, well, I guess, mostly Caius. That man seemed to enjoy arguing a little too much. He would have made a great politician if he wasn't a murderer.

The door opened to my right and my heart pounded with fear. I was groggy and slow, and a door opening certainly did enough to scare the hell out of me. It was Aro and he smiled at me, seeing that I was awake. He gracefully glided across the room to my bed and looked at all of the machines that were hooking me up, which reminded me, why did they have those things in the first place? It seemed a little modern, to say the least.

"How did you get these?" I ask, gesturing to the wires.

He chuckled lightly. "My dear, you act as if we are completely devoid of any technology. While this room may rarely ever be used, it does serve us in times of need, such as the situation you had gotten yourself in three days ago."

My eyes widened. "Three days? I've been asleep for three days?"

"Yes. It seems you had been a bit sleep deprived, and coupled with your nasty gash. Miraculously enough, however, you healed within the hour you were here, but I didn't have the heart to cart you back to your room," Aro said sincerely.

I laughed inwardly, but didn't show it on the outside. There was something that he wasn't telling me. "What aren't you telling me, Aro?"

His face fell a little. "Well, you see, my dear, my brothers and I have agreed that your gifts are extraordinary. However, we're not sure if you are able to prove yourself in the timeframe that my brother, Caius, has given you. I have fought for him to push back the deadline and allow you more time to prepare, but he wishes to either kill you or turn you by the end of the month, in two weeks. At the end of those two weeks, we will decide unanimously."

He continued after a pause, "You will perform one last test before us on the eve of the turning of the month. Now, you will be returned to your quarters until the day. Meals will be provided daily and you may walk the span of the corridor, which also contains the restroom and Alec's quarters."

After he was finished, two guards appeared seemingly out of thin air and led me to my room. They shut the door briskly behind them, but I noticed that they didn't lock it. So Aro was actually telling the truth on something. I see that an outfit has been laid out on my bed and breathe a quick sigh of relief. Being dressed in a hospital gown made me feel vulnerable and exposed. I quickly got changed and sat on my bed, bringing a pillow up to my stomach.

I could feel the tears coming, and the way my stomach muscles clenched I could tell that I was ready to heave a sigh, yet nothing came. No matter how hard I tried to expend all of my pent up sadness, nothing came, so I threw the pillow to the other side of the room and pouted like a toddler. I had gone from being depressingly sad to being dangerously livid. I wanted to rip up everything in my room and scream, but something stopped me, or, rather, _someone_.

I felt stupid that I hadn't even noticed that Alec was in my room, but when he had made his presence known, I had surely noticed. He had that little smirk playing on his perfect lips, as always, as he made his way over to me. He chuckled and pressed his cold finger underneath my chin, lifting it up so I would meet his red eyes.

"What troubles you so?" he asked teasingly. I fully knew that he didn't really care.

"My death date has been set, if that pleases thee," I replied sarcastic-ly. My tone even surprised me, but I regretted it as soon as the words had left my stupid, careless mouth.

Alec opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it, and then opened it again. "I'll excuse you for your insolence this time, sort of as a treat for what I'm about to do to you."

Instantly, my skin prickled with fear and I felt cold. I gave him a strange look and watched as he carefully lowered his lips to mine before he kissed me. It was short and sweet at first. His lips just brushed mine before he backed away a little, and then he returned for a true kiss. My heart fluttered a little as he placed his hand behind my neck, supporting me as his kisses started to lengthen and deepen, until, finally, he thrust his tongue inside my mouth, roughly tangoing with mine for dominance. Of course, he won.

Slowly, he ran his hands from my neck to my shoulders, where they lingered, until, he found the lacings of the dress that I had just put on. I tried to stop him there, but, almost instinctively, one of his hands shot out and pinned both of my hands behind me as he leaned me back against the bed. My head rested on the soft pillow as he continued his kissing, allowing only miniscule moments for me to catch my breath, as breathing clearly wasn't an issue for him.

He again tried to unlace my dress, but I made a strange noise in my throat and Alec backed away, looking down upon me, an almost dazed look clouding his eyes. "What?" he asked hoarsely.

I stumbled for words to tell him that I was a virgin and I really didn't want him to take it, but he had already caught on. He smirked and went back on his knees. "You're a virgin, eh?" he asked smugly. I blushed and nodded.

He hesitated for a moment, and then, with a devilish smirk he added, "You won't be after tonight." With that, in a matter of seconds, he was kissing me again and this time, with a renewed purpose, he unlaced my dress forcefully, ripping the strings with ease as the bodice slowly started to become looser and looser around my chest until, finally, there was nothing there as Alec ripped it away.

The cold air shocked my bare chest and I shivered, especially when Alec's cold free hand made its way down the valley of my breasts and then to one of my breasts. Admittedly, they weren't the biggest in the world, sure, so I certainly didn't like some "14" year old boy touching them, but there was nothing I could do as Alec traced his fingertips over my nipple until he settled on the tip, where his finger danced slightly above it, causing it to erect.

He had stopped kissing me on the lips, but slowly made his way down further, trailing kisses until he came to one of breasts, where glazed his tongue over the surface of my nipple, his other hand finally releasing my wrists from the vice grip. I let my hands stay at my sides, too scared to see what he would do if I tried to stop him again. With one hand, he massaged my left breast, and with his mouth and other hand, he massaged the other.

I would be stupid to admit that it didn't feel good, yes, but, good lord, was it so wrong. I wanted him to stop, but the deeper part of me wanted to urge him on, especially when he left my breasts and kissed his way over my flat, warm stomach until he came to the band of my panties. He folded the band over itself as his relentless kisses continued until, finally, he had taken them all off. I closed my eyes and refused to look as he slowly started to massage my super sensitive spot.

I felt tingles erupt all over my body and I couldn't help but let out a small moan. It was crazy, really, how easily I'd just given myself over to Alec, but I couldn't help myself, whether it be out of fear or for own personal pleasures, I couldn't stop him, not now. That would be asking for a death sentence, and I just knew it.

His thumb trailed further down as his mouth took its place. I placed my hand over my mouth and bit my finger. This was, without a doubt, the most pleasing thing I'd ever felt. I mean, surely, all teenage girls experiment, right? Touching around, seeing what felt good and what didn't, but Alec was going in with serious experience and precision. It made me wonder how many girls he'd done this to, but my thoughts were interrupted as his tongue's pace quickened until, finally, I felt my stomach muscle clench and bit my bottom lip in my orgasm.

Alec quickly straightened up and I could hear his belt hit the floor and then his zipper was undone. I suddenly got nervous. While I was surely the last virgin in my entire school, there would be no going back after this, and wasn't it supposed to hurt? A million thoughts gushed in my mind and my heart beat quickened, and as if he knew how scared I was, Alec reassuringly placed his hand on my arm. The gesture shocked me enough, but I was grateful.

Carefully, Alec thrust his length inside me and while it didn't hurt, it was kind of uncomfortable. He continued to thrust in and out carefully, until it got to the point where that, too, started to feel good. I arched my back and my hips grinded against his and he quickened his pace. Right now, I didn't care about anything, to be honest. The only thing I could see, hear, and feel was Alec. He leaned in and started to kiss me again and I wrapped my hands around his icy neck and brought my chest up against his. We continued like this for about five minutes before we both hit our releases, Alec spilling his icy seed deep within me.

He fell on the other side of my bed and I tried to catch my breath. While I had definitely enjoyed the sin while it was taking place, I felt evil and dirty now. Corrupted by some unseen evil spirit. As if he knew what would help, Alec pressed a cold fingertip and instantly, I was back in my Novocain paradise.


End file.
